Sweetest Thing

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Sweetest Thing Page 5

by Natasha West


  ‘Nah, I knew it was coming,’ he told her. ‘I guess peanuts don’t go with cheddar.’ Everyone else slowly gathered to congratulate or commiserate with the two named bakers. Jodie didn’t join in, but no one paid it much mind. Everyone knew what she was like by now.

  Robyn was just glad that she’d gotten the chance to see her perfect veneer dented, just a little.

  Eight

  Couldn’t taste the maple? Couldn’t taste the maple? Jodie had made that recipe before for her brother numerous times. She’d been dead sure of it when she’d seen that table of stuff, that was the way to go… Oh, hang on. When Jodie usually made the recipe, she made six muffins. She hadn’t adjusted the syrup for twelve, had she?

  Shit.

  Well, fine. Maybe the distraction of the set had caused her to muck up. She had to accept that. The proof was literally in the pudding on this one.

  Jodie left the studio that day to go home in something of a befuddled state. She’d gotten through week one, but she didn’t know how she was going to do this every weekend until she was booted. The whole thing was so draining. This was what being around people did to Jodie. It emptied her.

  On the way out, she bumped into Robyn, who happened to be leaving at the same moment. Pure bad luck. Jodie felt an odd compulsion to speak to her. After all, it was hard to ignore someone you’d rowed with. ‘Oh, hi,’ she said. ‘You off home?’

  Robyn looked surprised to be spoken to. ‘Yeah, train.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘I was about to get a cab.’

  ‘Yeah, me too,’ Jodie said before she realised where that would lead.

  ‘So, I guess it makes sense to split one, then?’ Robyn said with barely concealed irritation.

  ‘Makes sense,’ Jodie admitted. This was getting bloody silly. They didn’t like each other. Why did they keep doing this dance? Why couldn’t they both just say, ‘You bother me. Let’s never speak,’ give each other the finger and part on bad terms, the best of enemies.

  Instead, a runner was flagging down a cab while Jodie stood on the kerb and waited with Robyn.

  ***

  Ten minutes into the twenty-minute cab ride, Jodie was pleased to note that they had both made a conscious decision to ignore one another. Jodie looked out of the window and watched the streets, wondering what her brother had been getting up to in her absence. He was such a square; he’d probably been doing his homework, drinking plenty of water, getting to bed on time. His idea of going wild was to skip brushing his teeth before bed. But then he’d brush for twice as long the following morning to make up for it. The worst he might do was have Sasha over. Jodie didn’t mind, but Billy was always sneaky about it, probably because to admit she was there was to admit they were, gulp, doing it.

  She shot him a quick text. Bruv, on way home. Through to the second week. How was your weekend?

  The text that came back had so many exclamation points in it that she didn’t even get to the end.

  ‘Texting your boyfriend to tell him you’re through?’ Robyn asked, her eyes on her own phone.

  ‘Bold of you to assume I’ve got a boyfriend,’ Jodie said with a side-eye at Robyn.

  Robyn looked at her. ‘Yeah, I suppose so.’ It was nearly an apology.

  ‘Is that what you’re doing? Texting your boyfriend?’

  ‘Girlfriend,’ Robyn said.

  ‘Jesus, I hate it when women refer to their friends as ‘girlfriends’,’ Jodie muttered to herself.

  A cold laugh fell from Robyn’s lips like a pellet of ice. ‘I beg your pardon. My girlfriend is not a friend. She’s… I mean, we live together and share a bed. Who’s assuming now?’

  Jodie looked at her freshly. ‘Oh,’ she exclaimed in mild surprise. For her joke about whether Darnell or Jen was more Robyn’s type, ultimately, she’d assumed that anyone as repressed as Robyn would most likely be Straighty McStraight of Straight Town. She was slightly embarrassed to be proven wrong. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Why should it bother you that girls sometimes say girlfriend when they mean friend, anyway?’ Robyn asked.

  ‘Just does,’ Jodie said. She could have said more, mentioned that she too was into women. But she had no desire to bond with Robyn over any overlaps of sexuality. This cab was not about to turn into a queer bakers support group if she had anything to say about it.

  ‘So, how’d you find that final bake?’ Robyn asked.

  Jodie’s jaw tightened. Well, well, Robyn had claws. She was baiting her. Because she’d done well today, and Jodie had fluffed it. That pissed Jodie right off because yesterday, when it had been the other way around, she hadn’t thrown it in Robyn’s face. ‘Today was a shit show. But it doesn’t matter because I’m still through to week two,’ Jodie told her honestly. If she simply said it how it was, Robyn hadn’t won, hadn’t wound her up.

  ‘Oh. So you don’t mind…’ Robyn started.

  ‘Admitting I fucked up?’ Not enormously,’ Jodie interrupted. ‘So what? It’s only baking. Can’t get a perfect bake every time.’

  ‘I see,’ Robyn said, surprised.

  The train station came into view. ‘Shall we split it?’ Jodie asked.

  ‘No, I’ll pay. It’s only going on Bake It!’s expenses, anyway.’

  ‘Cool,’ Jodie said neutrally.

  They got out of the cab, and Robyn paid, making sure to get a receipt, and they went into the train station. They both checked the boards.

  Jodie saw her train. ‘Right, the 18.42…’

  ‘…To Medford’ Robyn said at the same time.

  They looked at each other, and Jodie could see the same level of disbelief in Robyn’s eyes as she felt. ‘I’ve got a reserved seat,’ Jodie said quickly. ‘You?’

  Robyn nodded quickly. ‘Yep. Carriage C.’

  ‘I’m in B.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Right.’

  They walked down to the platform and went to their respective carriages. They stood at the doors, and Jodie called, ‘See you in the kitchen.’ Robyn gave a little nod, and they stepped onboard their carriages.

  Jodie plonked herself down on her seat (which wasn’t remotely reserved) with a relieved sigh. Unbelievable that they came from the same city. It was like fate was trying to squeeze every last drop of awkwardness out of their difficult acquaintance.

  ***

  On the other side of the journey, Jodie got off the train and made a sharp dash for the exit. But she happened to see Robyn just outside the barriers, being greeted by a person Jodie assumed was the aforementioned girlfriend. She was the total opposite to Robyn, a bit slovenly looking, though cute enough to compensate for it. She hugged Robyn, and Robyn accepted the embrace a bit stiffly, Jodie thought. Then again, Robyn did everything stiffly.

  Jodie passed the couple quickly, not wanting to get drawn into Robyn’s trajectory any further, desperate to get home quickly. She wanted to forget Bake It! At least until next weekend.

  Nine

  Week Two - Pastries

  Robyn was up to her elbows in dough, making raspberry and cream eclairs. The theme of week two was pastry. Robyn felt pleased about that. As well as the choux she was currently whipping into shape, Robyn knew her shit. Flaky, filo, shortcrust, puff, they were all in Robyn’s kit bag. But that didn’t mean she could rest on her laurels. Having felt the scorch of Adam’s disapproval, she would do whatever it took to avoid it today.

  She glanced to her neighbour, Jodie, working away on some baklava. They’d nodded as they came in today, but it was clear that the undercurrent of resentment that they were riding on was still at high tide. Having had a week to sit on it, Robyn had decided that actually, it was rather liberating to have someone in her life that she could mutually dislike with such ease. She’d never had that before. There was always a pressure to like people unless they’d done you some obvious wrong. The pressure to have people like you back was equally weighted. If people didn’t like you, life was harder. You would struggle for jobs, partners, friends. That was why Ro
byn tended not to make waves. She never wanted to be thought of as the type that would create drama, add stress to the lives of those around her.

  Case in point, her hotel room currently contained Alex. So much for breathing space. She’d asked to be allowed to come this weekend, pleading her desire to support Robyn. Robyn had conceded, though she wasn’t completely sure that was her motivation. She worried that Alex was going to propose. A nice hotel room in another city was exactly the type of place people did that sort of thing. And this was free, Alex’s favourite word. It was a great way to get a fancy proposal on someone else’s dime.

  Robyn hoped she was wrong. They’d had a patchy week together, Alex leaving wet towels on the bed, leaving the kitchen in a shocking state in the making of a simple sandwich, forgetting to turn off lights, leaving the front door wide open for an evening. ‘We’re lucky we didn’t have our heads chopped off while we were watching the telly!’ Robyn had complained. Alex had just laughed, not taking it seriously.

  But Robyn didn’t want to focus entirely on the negatives. Alex had done several sweet things too. She’d left a note on the bathroom mirror, written in Robyn’s lipstick, telling her she loved her. Robyn had had to clean it off with Windex, but still. She was also very cuddly in bed, spooning her through the night. Though she was always too tired for anything else. Robyn wouldn’t have minded some ‘stress relief’, but if Alex was tired out from an evening of Call of Duty, what could Robyn do except wait until Alex was snoring, then masturbate quietly and go to sleep?

  Robyn wondered if there was any way she could find out for sure if Alex was planning to propose? Because she didn’t want to be thinking about it if she didn’t have to be. Her brain had absolutely no space left for romantic worries. This choux had to be perfect.

  ‘Twenty minutes!’ Madeline called.

  Christ, Robyn needed to get a shift on. The judges would stop for no man.

  ***

  ‘Pretty good,’ Adam said and walked off.

  That was it, sweat and tears for, ‘Pretty good.’

  Jodie, though? She was given a different word for her apple and mascarpone danish. ‘Special.’ Robyn picked up a wooden spoon and gripped it with both hands. She heard a light crack.

  Ten

  Jodie stepped into the elevator in the hotel, chicken tikka masala in her hand. She was going nowhere near that hotel restaurant tonight. She was going to sit in her room and pour curry down her neck, safe, alone, free of the drama of other people.

  Someone else got in the elevator before the doors could close, sliding through at the last moment. ‘Sorry,’ the woman said. She was wearing a hoodie, very lowkey, but she had something that made you look twice.

  ‘No worries,’ Jodie told her. The woman looked familiar. Was she on the production, a runner or a camerawoman? Jodie didn’t think that was it.

  They rode up a couple of floors in silence, and then the woman did an exaggerated sniffing of the air. ‘Is that chicken tikka masala I smell?’

  Jodie turned to the woman. ‘It is, actually. Good nose.’

  The woman smiled. ‘You allowed takeaway in your room?’

  ‘Nope,’ Jodie told her flatly.

  ‘Oh, naughty, are we?’ the woman said with a grin.

  Jodie answered that with a brief smile, realising what she should have known the second the woman opened her mouth. The stranger was hitting on her. Jodie wasn’t interested. The woman was attractive, but there was something unpleasantly cocky about her.

  ‘How long you staying here?’ the stranger asked.

  ‘Just tonight,’ Jodie answered, wondering how long a lift ride could take.

  ‘Me too. Fancy a drink later?’ the woman asked.

  And there it was. ‘Sorry, I’m pretty tired.’

  The woman’s stride was unbroken. ‘OK, well, if you change your mind, I’ll be in the bar about midnight.’

  ‘I don’t think I’ll change my mind,’ Jodie told her plainly.

  ‘I guess I’ll keep my fingers crossed,’ the woman said. ‘Oh, this is my floor.’

  The doors slid open on the ninth floor. Jodie was pleased that she was on floor ten. This pick-up attempt was over.

  The woman got off and walked down the hall, and before the doors could slide shut, she saw her let herself into a room, met by someone else, someone she knew. And that was when she remembered where she’d seen the woman. It was Robyn’s girlfriend.

  For fuck’s sake.

  ***

  Jodie didn’t taste her curry. She was distracted, agitated. Robyn’s girlfriend had tried to pick her up in a two-minute elevator ride. Only a player did shit like that. It was possible that Robyn and Alex had an arrangement, that Alex was free to hit on anyone she pleased. But Jodie had an overriding instinct that wasn’t the case. If she was right, Robyn’s girlfriend was a shitbag cheater.

  Of course, that was absolutely nothing to do with Jodie. She didn’t even like Robyn, and Robyn didn’t like her. Yet this piece of intel on her partner was sitting queasily in Jodie’s stomach atop mediocre curry. Bothering her, making her feel uneasy. Making her feel bad for Robyn, who was probably quite oblivious. She didn’t like that, feeling empathy for Robyn. It was disquieting.

  Towards ten, Jodie decided that she wasn’t going to care about this. It wasn’t her business. She was going to bed.

  An hour later, she had tossed and turned herself right back up. Another fifty minutes went by watching trashy TV, Jodie pretending she was just going to go back to sleep when she was tired again. It wasn’t until ten to midnight that she finally got up, put her clothes on, and headed downstairs.

  She walked into the bar and looked around, spotting her prey. At the bar, drink in hand, eyes scouting, was Robyn’s girlfriend.

  ‘Hi,’ Jodie said, creeping up behind her.

  The woman turned around. ‘You came after all,’ she said, unsurprised.

  ‘I guess I had a change of heart.’ Jodie sat down at the bar next to the cad. ‘OJ please,’ she told the barwoman. Orange juice appeared in front of her.

  ‘I’m pleased to hear that. My name’s Alex, by the way.’

  ‘Helen,’ Jodie said. She didn’t know if Alex might have heard about Jodie before. Better to hold that piece of info back until she was ready to drop it.

  ‘You don’t look like a Helen,’ Alex said with a smile.

  ‘Yeah, that’s what my girlfriend says,’ Jodie lied smoothly.

  Alex raised an eyebrow. ‘Girlfriend?’

  ‘Yeah. That cool?’ she asked with a sly grin.

  Alex returned the grin. ‘Is she here?’

  ‘In the hotel, no.’

  ‘OK,’ Alex said with a nod. ‘So, we’re being discrete, right?’

  ‘Do you need to be discrete?’ Jodie asked.

  Alex took a long sip of her beer. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘I thought I saw you with someone earlier.’

  ‘Oh, you did, did you?’ Alex said with a chuckle. ‘Guess I’m caught out then. Yeah. I’m here with my girlfriend.’

  ‘So your girlfriend’s here in the hotel?’ Jodie said with fake admiration. ‘And you’re picking people up in the lift?’

  ‘She wouldn’t notice. She’s pretty caught up in her own shit,’ Alex said with slight contempt.

  Jodie nodded sympathetically. ‘Won’t she be wondering where you are right now, though?’

  ‘She falls unconscious at eleven on the dot every night and sleeps like the dead. After that, I’m free as a bird,’ Alex bragged.

  ‘So plenty of opportunities to… make new friends,’ Jodie prompted.

  Alex gave Jodie a leering look and lifted her drink. ‘To new friends.’

  Jodie clinked her juice. ‘New friends.’ She sipped her drink and put it down. ‘So what are you and your girlfriend doing here, anyway? Romantic getaway?’ she asked with a cynical expression.

  ‘Girlfriend has a thing in town,’ Alex said vaguely. She looked like she didn’t want to keep talking about that topic. That
was a shame because Jodie wasn’t done with the subject by a long sight. ‘Oh? Like work?’ she encouraged.

  ‘Something like that,’ Alex said quickly and pointed her beer at Jodie. ‘What about you, Helen? What are you in town for?’

  ‘Me? Oh, I’m being put up by a TV show, I’m a contestant.’

 

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